


A Dark Embrace

by scipper540



Category: American Psycho - Fandom, Vampire the Masquerade - Fandom, VtM - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Blood Play, Cocaine, Control, Dark, Darkness, Dom/sub, Dominate, Domination, Drug Use, Drugs, Embrace, F/M, Feeding, Lasombra, Masochism, Meat Hooks, OC, OCxOC - Freeform, Power Exchange, Shadow - Freeform, Shadow tentacles, Stabbing, Submissive, Tentacles, The Dark, Torture, Vampire Feeding, Vampires, Violence, Violent, blood sucking, extreme masochism, extreme violence, knife, lasombras, meat hook, mention of drugs, stab, stabbed, sub, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23308090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scipper540/pseuds/scipper540
Summary: This is a work between my OC and a friends OC that takes place in the Vampire: The Masquerade universe. The character Dale is based upon Patrick Bateman from American Psycho which is why it is in that fandom. Warnings in the tags and in the notes at the end.Another Cainite has delved into Dale's mind and is searching for the memory of Dale embracing his now childe Christine. In this memory not only are there secrets to his past but also to his closed-off emotions.Dale had just finished playing with his ghouled toy. But perhaps tonight was the night after all. Tonight would be the night he embraced her as a Vampire of Clan Lasombra into the Sect of the Sabbat.
Kudos: 2





	A Dark Embrace

Inside Dale's mind, there are shadows and long extending hallways. It looked like a mix between a standard high-end office on a penthouse floor of a building in NewYork with a dark city skyline below him. Fuzzed out nameplate was on the desk in this room and the room itself was huge and morphing. Slightly shifting from being an office to being a home office. A picture on his desk was nearly identical to the one in his real life, but this one had a blonde wife, himself and a dark fuzzy thing in the corner of the frame. You would find yourself in kind of a morphed shape to Dale's own form. He will walk to a large filing cabinet, but upon opening it, it will become a door and lead down a series of hallways. Most blocked off, some chained up, but a dark and long hallway none the less.

This Dale conduit will walk down the hallway before approaching a smaller double door. It is white and half of the door is covered in blood and the other half is clean. He opened the clean unharmed side and walked into the new area. Here there where files neatly put away, some scattered on the floor, and others floating about. Dale would go to one of the files that were tightly put away and pull it out. Sliding it under one of those backlight projectors and turning it on to the wall. Looking at it though it looked like a more than realistic than television could ever produce. It began to play memory.

Dale was in his apartment room. It was lavish with minimalist décor. Most of the furniture was white and they seemed to be in the living room. Both him in this version, half-naked, and Christine, fully nude on the couch, sprawled out over a clear tarp and clearly injured and bleeding from her wounds. But she seemed excited, even thrilled at this idea. Her chest was covered in white and red mixed powder and Dale reeled back and sniffed in heavily.  
In this moment as the new energy lit up his mind for the next few hours he heard the blonde below him speak.

"Dale... after you've had your way with me... Embrace me? I'm ready.."

Dale pulled back finishing the coke off and made sure it was forced up his nose. He sighed happily and stared down at her. Ruined just for him. And then like a shattering mirror those words she whispered came through and into the world. He didn't react at first. Letting his arms drift to his sides. He looked down on her and over her form. Not doing much of anything. At first. Then after some time, he spoke. 

"..... Do you know what it takes to create a Lasombra? Christine?"

Dale watched as Christine looked up to him with those content eyes. Either way, she would be happy, he guessed. But he needed her here. Nork, the thorn in his side Cainite, was getting too close to her and he wouldn't risk losing something so valuable to him to that fucking dick head. 

"I don't think you would have offered if you didn't think I could handle it. If..you changed your mind..." She spoke again proving Dale's theory of determination.

Suddenly a tentacle shot around Christine's throat, lunging out from the nearest shadow. Dale tilted his head to the side and looked down onto his childe to be. Wondering if now really was the time. He could just eat her, start over, sure, but she was so helpful and he wasn't going to let this slip away. 

"Then you understand... That when a Lasombra is embraced... they are broken. Snapped and broken down into their most basic elements... and recreated." he said looking off to the side as he spoke. His usual and typical businessy smile absent and his expression deadly serious.

She let a faint gasp escape her lips, before biting it gingerly.   
"If you think I'm worthy of your gift, I would suffer for you, gladly. You know I would." She couldn't help but squirm ever so slightly, looking to him admiringly.

Dale slowly looked down at her. Over her physical form now covered in cocaine and blood. "....I will break you... Worse than any other time... And you will repair yourself. Even stronger than before... And I will embrace you then."  
Dale could see it in her eyes. The way she squirmed, the familiar hunger he had when he was first offered this moment. It was something truly worthy of his blood. 

"Make me worthy of your gift. Inspire me." She said nearly begging for this.

Dale didn't waste another precious moment. He yanked Christine from where she lay and dragged her into another room with little regard for her physical wellbeing at this point. This door had always been locked before, in fact, it was hardly even a door at all. Dale dragged her by her throat along the floor as he marched to it. This sheer panel with only a small hole in the front. Another shadowed tentacle came out and it flicked into the door's keyhole. There was a click and then it opened. Inside was a small steel room. Roughly the size of a child's bedroom. Maybe smaller. He tossed her inside this room and the door slammed behind them. A burning hum came from the automatic led light above them. The cold sterile tile floor was the only thing to meet her face as she hit the ground. That and the drain in the center of the room.

Dale entered the room behind her. The door slammed closed. He was already removing his tie around his neck. "Things are going to get messy." He said. He walked to her and knelt before her. His tie in his hands. "I need you on your knees." He instructed.

Her head immediately lifted to look to him and she moved to her knees before him. She wore that same determined gleam in her eyes even in this place. Now there was no going back. She would die in here or emerge a Lasombra.

Dale walked behind her. The clicking of his dress shoes onto the tile floor echoed in the concrete room. He stopped behind her. "Christine... A Lasombra is born out of darkness. We walk the path of night. You know this..." He knelt down behind her as well. His tie removed from his neck and now in front of her eyes and slowly covering them. He leaned to whisper in her ear. "So we won't be needing these." He said securing it around her face.

Christine was able to hold still as Dale secured the tie around her, only squirming slightly and from what Dale could tell, it was arousal or excitement. Though who could really tell the difference.

Dale checked to make sure it was secure. Tight. Good. He moved behind her further to the back. A large red toolbox was sitting there. He dug into it before he found his favorite tool. There was a rustle of plastic tarp. And to top it off there was a whirl of a machine. Some kind of pulley system and down from the ceiling came a long clattering chain. It dropped lower and lower at a steady pace. Brushing against her head at first. Just the back end and next to her cheek as it swung. On the end of the chain was a massive metal object. A pointed end continued to poke at her as it swayed there. Dale then came back over. As he walked there was that rustle of fabric. It shifted with each step he took. Dale was dressed in a plastic raincoat, Burberry, his favorite. 

She had no idea a meat hook was dangling right next to her face at this moment. She just seemed to sit there, still waiting, still ready. Dale couldn't help but smirk slightly at her defiance. Well, that wouldn't last. He stood behind her again and spoke. "Go on... Stand." He said instructing her as he took the meat hook in his hand.

He watched as the beautiful blonde stood up and faced away from him. The white of the walls wouldn't last, not at this rate. She slightly whimpered, though she did stand tall and resolute.

Dale let his hand run against her back. Down her spine, until he seemed to settle in an area. As he moved the chain rattled slightly. His fingers moved along her back like he was looking for something. And when he thought he had found it. It was one swift motion. 

Several things occurred at once. The chains clattered and rattled. He pulled back and drove forward the cold metal meat hook. It plunged itself into her. Stabbing straight into her back. And in that time a tentacle flicked back to hit the button on the wall hoisting her just off the ground to where she was barely touching the with the tips of her toes.

Christine howled at the sudden sharp sensation of the meat hook, her muscles tensing even as it lifted her off the ground. Her teeth clenched, fingers curling into a fist...then flexing outwards as they unfurled.

Dale walked around to the front. Looking her over. He was checking to see if she still had fight in her. Wondering if this first leap would break her. "Christine... Can you still hear me?"

Her head immediately lifted, then turned towards him. She nodded, wincing from every motion her body made that reminded her of the meat hook. "...yes... I...I can hear..you.." It was cold in this room, chilled as if to slow bleeding.

"Good." He moved to hold his new favorite tool in hand. The metallic blade now crossing her body. He was tracing lines. Moving over the preexisting cuts he had made in the other room with the dull side of this weapon. Seeming to practice or trace where he was going to go. The chill of the metal was of no concern of his as his free hand moved to caress her face.

She shuddered at the coldness of the blade through her body arched toward it. Her head inclined to the hand caressing her face. She bit her lip in this moment hungry for more. "..I'm your canvas..." she whispered, occasionally shuddering.

Dale pulled the knife away and played with her hair. Cutting pieces off at his pleasure and letting them fall onto the floor. "Christine... You must understand. Lasombra... We are the kings. The rulers. We know the truth... Vampires are above humans. We are perfect. And you, if you make it... You will be a king too." He said pulling up even more on the hook. Letting the coarse of pain shoot into her.

She groaned from the pain of the hook, nodding to him with heavy breaths. "Kings...perfect." her fingers continued to flex open and closed. She made a feeble attempt at moving only to have her own body reject the movement due to the meat hook in her back.

Dale finally stepped back around front. Taking in the view. The already slightly damaged but, beautiful form. He would be the one to preserve it for all eternity. He held the knife in hand. Standing at the ready. His mind flooded with violent thoughts. Before him, in this dreamscape place, he could see it all played out. The blood, the guts, the violence, how his body craved it. His mind was sick and he knew it. But more than anything, he wanted it. He forced his lungs to move. Taking a breath in and out before he lunged at her. Slicing upwards across her chest. Cutting deep and flinging blood across the room. Then coming back down and over her stomach. The rush! That exhilarating rush! Better than any drug he had ever had. Better than sex, better than money. Pure unadulterated violence.

She howled at the sudden pain, gasping, her head turned to his direction as she'd heard him preparing to move. Her breathing was heavy. She squirmed but only ended up in more agonized pain, evident by her cries. Dale saw it in his vision, another woman standing where Christine was, blonde as well. He felt it again, just like he had that time. That same forbidden rage, that same need, his unquenchable bloodlust.

Dale watched as the bloody spray went up against the walls. The sheer white now decorated with such beautiful red. Dale didn't, couldn't stop. He plunged the blade into her now. Deeper and deeper. Over and over. Her stomach, her chest. Barely missing vital organs. He felt the wild cry in his hair and eyes as his rage and instinct took over. He yanked down the pully system, dropping the knife and letting her fall to the floor onto the hook. Driving it deeper into her back.

She hit the ground with a wet thud, coughing up blood..body shuddering and twitching and golden hair now splotched crimson.

Dale watched standing above her. A pool of blood seeping out from all her wounds. He waited. He waited a long time. Standing and watching it flow. Watching it flood. He checked his watch, Rolex. Nice. 10 seconds... 15...20...21.22.23.24. He monitored her condition. "It took Paul Owen five minutes to die... But he wasn't as severe as you." He knelt down yanking the hook out and shutting the lights off in the cold dark room around them. Plunging Christine into the dark, into this cold aching abyss, leaving her with nothing but her pain and his last few words."Stitch yourself back together... Pull yourself back up."

She coughed in the dark, then slowly moved. Dale had stayed in the room for now. Cristine rolled onto her back next. Her hands caressed over her stained body, sealing her wounds with a knitted fleshed sound. She placed her hand to the floor, pushing herself up...then standing, listening for the faintest sound to turn to face him.

Dale held his hand out. "Find my hand when you're done." He said standing up and backing up from her. He needed her to stand. To come to him. Prove herself. Then he would wreck her again.

Her head snapped towards the sound of his voice...and from there it followed the faint footfalls against the tarp. She knew his height, familiar with his body by now...his mannerisms, which would determine how he was likely to hold his hand: how far out and how elevated. She pictured him in his mind, standing there... and so she moved to him, naked and bloody...and took his hand.

In the dark he could hear her, moving slowly at first but then with more and more confidence. Her own hand outstretched as it landed perfectly in Dale's. He was almost impressed. She didn't feel for him or approach with caution. The same man who had just torn her apart was now the one she was reaching for. Dale pulled her in close. Cradling her head into his shoulder. He let her wet bloody form come close to him. Leaning against him now she could tell, he was wearing a plastic raincoat. He combed through her hair and checked to see if she really had done what he had asked. Was she totally reconstructed?

She curled against his chest as she was cradled, occasionally shivering. Dale moved his hands along her in the dark, checking to make sure she had done as he had asked, and not a single scrape was left. She was perfect, perfect and pristine.

Dale was just a bit surprised. It was perfect... His handy work... Gone... She was perfect yet again.. Even her hair was returned... He was amazed. He let his hands wander into her hair. Tilting her head to the side and exposing her neck. Pulling the blindfold tie off as it was still dark in the room, it wasn't needed.   
"You know what happens now?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"Have I earned your gift?" She asked still regaining her movement and breath. Her hands were still shaking from the effort of making absolutely certain she was unmarred.

Dale smiled as his fangs traced along her neck. "With every inch of your will." He whispered sinking them in and taking what he wanted. Draining her bit by bit until there was nearly nothing left.

She gasped, her arms wrapped partially around him, holding him to her for as long as her strength allowed.

Dale finished just at the end. He gently set her down back into the pool of blood. He held his wrist out for her. "Go on. Drink. Take it yourself." As he hadn't opened a vein for her. She had to bite him. And hard. He wasn't going to give this to her, as much as this was a gift, she would have to take it. To take what belonged to her.

She took the offered wrist and pulled it to her glossed lips, sinking her teeth into his flesh fiercely and jerking her head to rip a wound open. And then she tasted it.. and she drank deeply.

Dale groaned and cried out in pain. Clenching his teeth and fighting through his own pain. He waited for her. Go on... Drink. He willed himself to bleed. And bleed profusely. Like a geyser he opened what he had taken from her. Now tainted with his own blood. "Chr-Christine... Go on... Take what's yours." His pride echoed in the chamber of darkness as he commanded her to finish the job.

She continued to drink...hungrily...deeply...She took what was hers, slender fingers gripping his arm tightly.

Dale could see her in the pitch darkness and knew she couldn't see him well. But she knew he was there. Eyes on him. He could feel it. He felt her grasp upon him grow. Her strength returning. His blood taking hold in her. His precious life force. Every drop he gave felt like his beast would writhe up and strangle him from within. "Enough... Enough!" He shouted.

She lifted her head quickly at his words, placing her hand over the wound and sealing it with her fleshcraft.

Dale pulled his arm away and then slowly laid her down onto the floor. "Easy now... Lie down... Let it take hold... When you're ready... Come outside." He said standing and heading to the door. She was left there. In nothing but darkness.

It wasn't long before the naked woman walked out from the room, a soft grin to her lips. She checked her feet, making sure to wipe them clean of blood so as not to track anything through the apartment. She went to the Livingroom first. Dale watched her approach, already set up with two glasses of wine. He was sitting on the couch, waiting. Blazer was redone and raincoat hanging in the shower.

She smiled at the sight of him, looking to herself a moment. "I'm quite underdressed..I'll be right back." She headed to the bathroom, then emerged, hair partially up with golden locks playing about her face and shoulders, wearing a stunning black satin and lace dress: keyhole halter to accent her breasts. Her heels clicked rhythmically on the floor as she walked towards him, smiling and taking a seat beside him.

Dale looked up already helping himself to the wine. The tarp on his couch was removed as she came over. "Take a seat..." He instructed.

She took a seat, leg crossed as she gave a cordial smile to him. Her eyes glanced at the wine before looking back to him.

"Have some wine. It's a fine chardonnay." He said looking down and off to the side. His smile was still absent. ".....How do you feel?"

"I feel... alert.. vibrant.." she takes the offered glass casually, reaching to run her hand along his arm. "...and you? How are you feeling?" There was a sense of concern in her voice.

Dale slowly looked back to her. Taking stock of the new childe. His childe. "I feel drained... But proud." and it was true. He had created his first childe. For so long he had sworn he would never, too much trouble, he always had told himself. But now that she was sitting there, in her new form. He felt both pride and now a new sense of responsibility. Not unlike that he had felt as a new parent.

She smiled at that, reaching to place a hand to his cheek with a silken caress. "Then we should get you something to eat." She stood, nodding to him.

Dale sighed rolling his eyes. He supposed this was her way of thanking him. He let her get the bottle even though he didn't really need it. "We have more work to do Christine."

With the bottle set on the coffee table, she rejoined him, sitting and listening. "Of course. I'm ready to carry out what you have planned."

It was with that that the memory faded. The memory version of Dale had left his stand in position in the memory and was back in this projection room. He had stopped it early and put it back in the folder, lifting it up and it was tucked back neatly away in the multitude of filing cabinets that was his mind. Soon the stand in shadow melted into blackness and ink as the vision faded and everyone was back in Dale's office, where they had begun.

**Author's Note:**

> EXTREME VIOLENCE AND TORTURE. Stabbing, knives, drug use, cocaine, wine, drinking, alcohol, meat hook, meat hook hanging, darkness, the dark, abuse, male on female abuse, power exchange and control,


End file.
